Twitch
by Adiaphory
Summary: The wedding date is fast approaching and Lovino doesn't have time for all these distractions! Antonio will have to make the time for them when Lovino starts showing signs of Chorea. Great. JUST GREAT. [Sequel to "Silence Louder Than Thunder." AU. Spamano. Disease]
1. Your Eyes

**A/N : So this story is all about a Spamano wedding while Lovi has a disease. The comics just gave him "chorea" though my googling tells me that chorea is a symptom to something bigger. Be warned, descriptions of his disease probably won't be 100% accurate. And I'm giving him _Chorea_ , as if it were the entire problem rather than the symptom of something else. Lovino just has Chorea, like the comics.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 _Your Eyes_

* * *

The twitch that rattled Lovino's arm was unexpected and unwarranted. The best idea was to ignore it, though that grew increasingly harder as the twitch continued and became more violent as his muscles jerked his arm about.

Needless to say it was a horrifying experience to lose control of a limb so suddenly and profoundly. Once it passed he tried to forget about it and write it off as a one-time occurrence, though he soon learned that that wasn't the case.

It became a concern when it happened during the heat of the moment on Friday night. Antonio had him pinned to the bed and was kissing his jaw, stopping to suck on his neck, eliciting groans from the smaller man. They were naked already and getting themselves heated up for action. Between groans Lovino would run his hands up his lover's sides, knowing how much Antonio loved it, stopping at the hips. Those same hips moved down and Antonio rubbed his hardening erection against Lovino's, both stopping momentarily to moan. Lovino rotated his hips back and his breath stilled every time their heads touched and rubbed together.

It was becoming so hot and frustrating and Lovino wanted release _now_. Antonio leaned down to kiss him again when Lovi stopped him, wanting to demand they stop the foreplay and get to business. Instead, nothing came out but a surprised _"Chigi!"_ when his arm dropped from Antonio's hip and began to spasm against the bed sheets.

"Lovi, what are you doing?"

Lovino, instead of answering, tilted his head and watched as his arm jerked on its own and barely responded when he tried to still it. He tensed his muscles and even relaxed them but nothing quelled the irritable movements.

That was when Antonio grew concerned, finally understanding Lovino wasn't doing this on purpose. He reached forward, placing his hands on Lovi's cheeks and preventing him from looking at his arm.

"Lovi, what's wrong?"

"It—it won't stop," he sobbed, accepting the growing terror that coiled up and replaced the previous heat in his stomach. "I can't stop it."

The Spaniard's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you having a seizure?"

"Does it look like I'm having a fucking seizure?!"

"A little, I don't know!"

They didn't know what to do and it scared them more than the actual spasms. It slowly died down and stopped, prompting Lovino to retract his arm and hold it against his bare chest, cradling it as if he was afraid it would move again if he didn't.

The mood was ruined and neither wanted to continue their previous foreplay, instead opting to lay down together. Antonio held Lovino close, trying to soothe the scared man. He murmured Spanish nothings into his hair and made a mental note to himself to schedule an appointment with a doctor.

The next morning Lovino woke up and cautiously glanced at his arm, willing it to stay still and stop the random jerking nonsense it seemed to like doing. He was a stubborn man but even he didn't protest when Antonio announced they would visit the doctor that day. In all honestly he was scared and a doctor might fix it, despite how much he hated doctors.

They got dressed in decent clothes and got in the car for their drive into town and to the doctor's office. Lovino hated sitting in the waiting room and smelling all the alcohol and cleaning supplies. He didn't quite understand why they were at the regular doctor, who they only really saw for mandatory physicals from work or for when they were sick and needed prescriptions. This felt serious to Lovino, and he kind of wanted to go to a hospital.

And so the doctor finally called him back and Antonio came with him, knowing how nervous he got around doctors. Lovino felt embarrassed when he had to sit up on the table with the crinkly paper and have some old man basically feel him up as he took his pulse and stuck his hands and cold stethoscope up his shirt to listen to his heart and breathing.

He was here for his arm spasms, why the fuck did this old man need to test his knee's reflexes and look into his eyes with that blinding flashlight?!

He wasn't the least bit surprised when the doctor couldn't tell him what was wrong and instead referred him to some specialist. _At the hospital._ The place Lovino wanted to go to _to begin with_.

So they got in the car and drove to the hospital next, where they had to wait an eternity in the waiting rooms before a nurse finally took them in to a room, much like at the doctor's office. The embarrassment started all over again when he had blood drawn, another set of cold hands and metal objects under his shirt, and more lights shown into his eyes and things hitting his knees. The worst part was when the nurse handed him a cup and told him where the bathroom was.

Fuck tests. Fuck tests and everything about them.

Then there was more waiting. Lovino was sitting anxiously on the raised table and Antonio jumped up with him, holding his hand in a soothing manner. They finally saw a doctor, who apologized for it being such a busy day.

Lovino will never forget when he said he couldn't tell him just what was wrong with him yet. The disappointment filled him for the second time that day and the worry remained.

He also would never forget he next thing the doctor told him.

"Based on your symptoms you could have a number of genetic or neurological disorders."

"Like what?" Lovino urged, wanting at least some semblance of a name to give to his movement issues.

"Your spasms could be a symptom of Wilson's disease, Neuroacanthocytosis, Huntington's disease… it goes on, but those would be most likely."

Antonio turned his head and stared at the wall. "Did… did you say Huntington's?"

The doctor nodded and he went silent. The man promised to call them once the results got in from the tests and labs and they nodded back before leaving the hospital.

Lovino cried when they got to the car.

What was worse was when Antonio cried with him. They were both scared and worried that now that their life was beginning it was already ending simultaneously. It wasn't fair in any aspect for either of them; Lovino already had to deal with his shitty family growing up and Antonio didn't have any left. All he had was the memory of his aunt as she lost her motor control and died of Huntington's when he was sixteen. Antonio wanted nothing more than for Lovino to never have to live through that, and he didn't know if he could do it himself.

The tears dried sometime later and they took a somber drive back home. Lovino knew better than to try googling his possible conditions, knowing it would only upset him more… but he already knew about Huntington's disease from Antonio's stories of his aunt. He knew how bad it got and how you slowly lost yourself. He didn't want to be imprisoned like that.

When they arrived home they laid together in bed, not talking and hardly moving. They just laid together in their shared warmth, wanting to get the call already and know what was wrong. And, in the back of his mind, Lovino wanted to know how much time he had left.

It was hard to answer the phone when Feliciano called, but Lovino couldn't just ignore his brother. The guilt of the last few years still nagged at him and he had yet to believe he repented for the hell he accidentally put on him.

"Hello, Feliciano… No, nothing's wrong, I was just taking a siesta when you called. No, it's fine, talk."

As he talked with his brother Antonio just watched, noticing the small twitches and looks of worry on Lovino's face and he couldn't help but wonder if the small movements were Lovino's anxiety or the mystery disease. The Italian's face fell and he sputtered more excuses about being tired into his phone, obviously being questioned by his (worried) brother.

"Look, Feli, I've got to go—Antonio needs my help. _No, I'm not lying!_ Go play with that stupid cat or the stupid potato bastard! _Ciao, fratello_."

He set his phone aside and breathed into his palms. Antonio scooted closer to him and held him loosely, knowing Lovino could get pretty testy about affection and it was always a hit-or-miss idea.

"I just lied to my sweet little _fratello_ ," he said numbly into Antonio's shoulder. "I could be dying."

"No, you're not," his fiancé said sternly. His voice faltered before uttering, "You _can't_."

"Goddamn it, Antonio, don't make me cry again."

They remained on the bed until Lovino demanded they shower because _all this grease may be fine for Antonio but he was not about to walk around filthier than that damn Gilbert_. While Lovino bathed, Antonio went to the kitchen to find them some dinner (though he would have preferred to be with his cute Italian fiancé, who was being difficult again and denied him shower fun).

There was little edible food so he opted to call for pizza instead. Knowing Lovino's disdain for unauthentic pizza, he searched for the alcohol they always kept for when the mood strikes them. Antonio pulled a bottle of cheap grocery store wine from the back of a cabinet and took two glasses with him to the bathroom door. He didn't even bother knocking before he stepped in and sat next to the tub. Lovino didn't seem to mind his presence and silently held his hand out to take the glass he was offered.

They sat together, with Antonio getting a bit wet each time Lovino moved his arm with the extended glass from the tub to signal _more_ _wine_.

"I'm going to die and leave Feli alone again," Lovino said with half-lidded eyes and a dead tone. He took another drink before continuing, "And I can't have an open casket funeral because my corpse will try to punch someone."

Antonio choked on his wine and tried to suppress the mental image of him crying at a casket while someone (probably Ludwig) tried to say his goodbyes only to be punched by the cold, rigor mortis fist of Lovino.

"I said you're not going to die!" he reprimanded, wiping his chin with his sleeve. Sadly for Antonio, he lost his filter when tipsy and they were almost out of wine. He quietly mumbled, "If it's Huntington's you wouldn't be able to move…"

Lovino stared at him, incredulous, cheeks reddened by the alcohol. "Bitch, I'll haunt my corpse just to punch that look off your fucking face."

"Can you possess yourself?"

"I don't see why not. I'm dead, I might as well have some fun."

"Like Casper?"

"No, that fuck was a pussy. I'm going to be _Lovino: The Unfriendly Ghost_."

The Italian held his glass out again, sloshing water and soap onto the floor. A small frown graced Antonio's face when the wine stopped mid-pour. "I guess that's it."

Lovino drank the last of the wine with a triumphant look and nearly dropped the glass when the doorbell rang. "What the fuck was that?!"

"Oh, I forgot I ordered pizza."

"Bastardized American pizza? I knew you got me drunk for a reason!"

Antonio stood and stopped before leaving the bathroom. "Are you drunk?"

Lovino stood from the tub, dripping water and soap everywhere as he followed Antonio, completely naked, to the front door. He held up his glass when there was about a teaspoon of wine left. He eyed his fiancé and said lowly, "No, _but this oughta do it_ ," before drinking the small amount. Antonio laughed at the ridiculousness.

They answered the door and the teenaged delivery boy flushed as he handed the Spaniard the pizza and accepted the payment. Antonio couldn't figure out why he was in such a rush to leave until he turned around to see his drunk, naked future husband just chilling on the couch.

"Look, Toni," he slurred. "We're just as trashy as that Alfred kid Feli bitches about."

All Antonio could think of in that moment was _How am I drunk enough to forget this sexy man was right there?_

…

 _Oh lord, that poor pizza delivery boy._

The time to worry about that teenager's innocence quickly ran out when Antonio set the pizza down and looked up at Lovino, who simply stared him straight in the eyes while he slowly opened his legs.

"Toni, be a dear and dry me off. I'm sick, I can't do it myself."

"Where do you need help?"

Lovino pointed a slender finger to his crotch with a straight face. "That should do it."

The two had been worried all day about getting the test results, which Antonio was aware of even in his lack of sobriety. He couldn't necessarily say he was drunk, though the wine bottle was huge and they did drink it quickly and skipped lunch. He decided to ignore the worry in his mind in lieu of sharing another moment with his lover, who was drunk enough to forget his worry and just want a drunken, sloppy fuck.

* * *

 **A/N : Chapter titles based on songs again, this time the songs will make up their wedding playlist! Titles won't necessarily by the full song name.**

 **I reread this and I can't believe there's a ghost joke. What's wrong with me. I wrote the first few chapters of this before _a certain other story_. Why.**

 **Brownie points for anyone who caught the _Blades of Glory_ reference. **_"Are you drunk?" "No, but this oughta do it."_ **Get your head on.**

* * *

 **Help a brother out! If anyone has ideas for songs for the wedding playlist, say it. I've never been to a wedding and it would help.**

* * *

 **" Open Your Eyes" by Snow Patrol**

* * *

 _All this feels strange and untrue_

 _And I won't waste a minute without you_


	2. My Little Bird

**Chapter 2**

 _My Little Bird_

* * *

" _What?"_

Antonio was holding to Lovino's hand tightly, though his own was being crushed in the Italian's surprising strength. They were finally back at the hospital, sitting in Lovino's primary doctor's office. The older doctor looked at Lovino nervously—Lovino was downright terrifying when he wanted to be.

"This is good news, Mr. Vargas," he tried to reiterate.

"This isn't good news, this is _less traumatic news_!"

Antonio tugged his hand, "Lovi, behave!"

The doctor shuffled through a few papers, including information on Lovino's tests and his current condition. "Mr. Vargas, please understand, many patients would be happy to receive this news. You don't have Huntington's Disease, nor do you suffer from Parkinson's or tumors or cancers of your brain! It's a simple condition to treat."

"Then why did you bastards take so damn long to diagnose it?"

"Lovi, please!"

"We haven't officially diagnosed it, we've simply ruled out the other options. I want to be sure of your condition before we go ahead and start treatment."

Antonio's eyebrows furrowed, starting to worry they were wrong and new tests would prove it to be Huntington's or something else fatal. "What do you need to do to prove it?"

Lovino's hold on him tightened, this time out of fear.

"I'd like to run a liver biopsy and take some more blood."

"Biopsy? So… surgery?" Antonio asked.

"Yes, but it's not a major surgery and it's solely to affirm what we believe. A biopsy is the most accurate way to test it."

Antonio and the doctor continued to talk about diagnoses and treatments and procedures while Lovino sat quietly, spacing out as he thought about how scary all of it sounded. _He_ was the one going through this, not them, it's not like they'd understand! And they continued talking for what felt like an eternity when a familiar jerkiness woke Lovino's foot.

 _No, no, no, not here! Well, I guess this would be the best place, but no! Stop fidgeting, goddamn it!_

"Lovi, are you oka— _is it happening_?" Antonio dropped his hand and stared at Lovino's shaking foot, which looked to be weakly trying to kick while Lovino held onto his leg in a poor attempt to stop it.

"This shit is getting really annoying," he huffed, trying to mask his fear.

After that incident, which died down without progressing further, they decided on Lovino coming back for the biopsy and additional tests.

* * *

Later that night they drove to the Edelstein home, being invited over for dinner and guilt tripped into coming because Feliciano really missed them. Lovino grumbled the entire time as they drove to the nice neighborhood and parked behind a sleek black BMW they had never seen in the driveway before.

"What if it acts up, huh? I don't want Feliciano seeing this!"

"Stop worrying, amigo, it already acted up at the doctor's and it never does it twice a day!"

Lovino looked away guiltily, having hid some of the occurrences for fear of worrying Antonio or being admitted to a hospital sooner.

They walked hand-in-hand to the front door before Elizaveta welcomed them in to sit down while Roderich finished making dinner.

Immediately the Italian noticed who Feliciano was sitting on the couch with a little too closely. "German bastard, you get away from my brother before I show you how many a _potato famine_ kills!"

"Lovi!" Antonio grabbed his arm to stop him from getting any closer to the two on the couch. He turned to Feliciano and Ludwig, quickly saying, "Excuse us, I think I need to have a word with Lovino in the other room."

He pulled his fiancé into the guest bedroom, which had been completely redone from the last time they saw it all those months ago. Antonio locked the door (which had a safety lock, something that could be undone outside the room) and sat Lovino on the bed.

"I know it's been a rough day but you can't threaten Ludwig's life every time you see him! A famine, _really_? Were you going to starve him?"

"I was going to shove a potato down his—"

"No, stop! That's premeditation! No more of that!" Antonio sighed and sat down next to Lovino before continuing. "You need to relax a bit."

It registered in Lovino's anger-clouded mind what the other man meant when he felt a hand on his thigh and another on his hip. He had a bad day so he allowed it, wanting something good to come from this visit.

So Lovino laid back as his lover relieved his stress. All Lovino could think of was how Antonio's lack of gag reflex was _amazing_.

The orgasm was almost there, he could feel it within his reach and he screwed his eyes shut even tighter. He was almost there and _oh god yes_ it was about to happen. Lovino moaned and made throaty noises when he—

The shrill voice of Feliciano cut into the air, happily crying out, "Ludwig!"

 _NO, NO, NO, PLEASE NOT NOW, NO, DON'T—_

But it was too late... the act was done. He sat up, struggling a bit (was that the disease or the head rush?). Antonio wiped his mouth and swallowed with a happy expression that quickly disappeared when he saw the horror on his lover's face.

"Oh no, Lovi, what's wrong? Did it happen?" His worry grew when Lovi stared at him with wide, green eyes.

"W-worse."

"Worse? Oh god, were you paralyzed? Damn it, I knew we should have seen the doctor sooner for the biopsy! I'll go call and schedule it sooner. Lovi, I'm so sor—"

"No, it's not that."

Antonio stared at him curiously. "Then… then what's wrong?"

"I came… _to that bastard's name being said_."

It was rather difficult for Antonio to explain his bloody lip when he and Lovino reemerged from the guest room. He couldn't help it—Lovino was so cute when he was flustered and absolutely mortified and the idea was too funny to pass up.

…He knew he was going to be sleeping in the spare room that night.

* * *

Ludwig spent the night after dinner was done. He couldn't figure out why Lovino looked so enraged at his presence this time. It was well known Lovino hated the German, for whatever reason, but he usually didn't have this much animosity in his eyes.

The engaged couple left soon after dinner, leaving Feliciano alone with Ludwig and the Edelsteins. Coincidentally they went out for a late movie, leaving the teenagers be. Elizaveta was still bent on letting Feliciano be a teenager, one time even asking Feliciano if he did pot. When he said no, she asked _why not_?

"I'm glad they're gone," Feliciano voiced as his adopted parents drove away. "Elizaveta tries too hard sometimes."

"Ja, but she means well."

The two sat in the living room, setting up the Xbox Feliciano received for his birthday the past year. It took him some time to get used to the idea of video games, only having an old Nintendo 64 at his old home that stopped working when a rat chewed through the power cord. The loud noises and bangs from the shooter games used to make him jump but the past year of playing with Gilbert as Ludwig watched slowly got him used to loud noises again.

Feliciano sat down with his friend, passing him a controller as the Xbox powered on and showed his (sleeping) icon.

"Fratello seemed off," he commented. "What did you do to him?

"Why do you assume I did something?!"

"He looked awfully mad."

"He always looks like that."

Feliciano clicked a few panels on the screen and his favorite zombie shooter game began loading. "Hey, Luddy?"

"Yes, Feliciano?"

"I graduate next month. Will you, you know…"

Ludwig glanced at his friend, amazed at the sudden shyness. Of course, he learned the Italian sometimes acted why when he was afraid he was about to be rejected. It was kind of cute to see him so worried over something so little.

"Of course I'll go to your graduation."

"Grazie, _Germany_!" And the nicknames are back. Ludwig tried to ignore the blush creeping onto his cheeks and focused on picking out a character.

The game started and the two quickly forgot about their personal issues as they scouted the roof for supplies. Feliciano happily sang out when he found an ax, his personal favorite weapon in the realm of zombie video games. Ludwig tried to be practical and picked up an automatic gun.  
They were almost to the bottom floor of the hotel, killing zombies left and right, when Feliciano ruined the moment the best way he knew how:

"Have you ever had sex?"

The awkwardness of the question made Ludwig drop his controller and be thoroughly killed by a hoard of zombies right before he made it to the safe zone.

"W-what kind of question is that?!"

"I was just curious," Feliciano said innocently, batting his eyelashes.

"Well don't worry about my sexual life!"

They sat in silence, Ludwig picking his controller back up and relieved to have that moment pass over.

"So you're a virgin?"

"FELICIANO!"

"Is that what you'd scream? _Feli_ is easier. Or _Italy_!"

"You are spending far too much time with my brother! Stop talking like that!"

The Italian sat, dejected, and sadly played his game, picking up new weapons. " _Mi dispiace, Germany_ … Gilbert told me the best way to talk to you was to be blunt."

"Why are you getting advice about me from that idiot?"

Feliciano busted a zombie's arm off and picked up more ammo. "Well, I just didn't know how to start a conversation like this…"

"Like that?"

"Like _you_. I mean— _I_ like you."

"Ja, ja, I like you too, Feliciano."

Feliciano frowned at him and continued destroying zombies as Ludwig's character scouted out areas ahead of the small survivors group. "I mean I like you in a _you-give-me-erections_ kind of way."

"…"

"I mean, when I think of you, I touch myself."

"…"

"Is it still too vague? I mean when I'm near you I—"

"No, no, I understand what you mean!" Ludwig sighed and ran a hand through his hair as his character, once again, died. "This is so sudden. How… how long have you… I mean…"

"I didn't realize it until you left for college," the Italian quietly admitted. "I was really lonely at school without you. And Alfred said you were probably having a lot of sex because that's what he said you do in college. And I didn't like the idea of you sleeping with anyone but me and I thought _'but me?_ _I guess I'm gay for Luddy then._ ' And I wanted to talk to Lovi or someone about it but he hates you and I couldn't talk to Eliza because she'd freak out and want to tell everyone, she gets so excited, and—"

"Slow down, Feliciano."

"I just realized how much I liked you. Not like friends anymore."

There was silence, only interrupted by the sounds of zombies eating their characters, who lay forgotten on the screen in a pile of death. Feliciano felt the embarrassment building and panic and rejection, then fear and anxiety—his anxiety really liked making his life hard.

He was ready to call it a night and take a long bath to calm down from the quiet rejection when he felt a warmness around his hand. He looked slowly down to his hand being held by a bigger, paler one. When he looked up to Ludwig, the man was looking straight ahead with a deepening blush spreading on his cheeks and a slightly nervous look to him.

"Ich… ich leibe dich, _Italy_."

Feliciano smiled wide and latched onto Ludwig's arm. "Ick leeba dicks to you, too, Germany!"

* * *

 **A/N : This time it _is_ GerIta. Sorry to anyone who liked them just being friends before.**

 **And the special scene with Lovino and Antonio in the guest room was... _longer_. I'll eventually post this to AO3 with the longer scene.**

* * *

 **" Little Bird" by Ed Sheeran**

* * *

 _But if I kiss you will your mouth read this truth_

 _Darling how I miss you, strawberries taste how lips do_

 _And it's not complete yet, mustn't get our feet wet_

 _'Cause that leads to regret, diving in too soon_

 _And I'll owe it all to you, oh, my little bird_

 _My little bird_


	3. Compass

**A/N: A quick note, this is a little bit of a  trigger warning because I don't want to offend anyone. There is a small joke referencing bulimia towards the end. I don't mean to mock anyone who suffers from any eating disorders and I want everyone to feel safe. I'm not making light of anyone's problems, which I hope _Silence Louder Than Thunder_ (which this is a sequel to, for anyone who didn't know) proved.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

 _Compass_

* * *

It was raining as Antonio drove Lovino to the hospital. He would be staying a few days and he was beyond nervous. He woke up early that day, unable to fall back asleep, and ended up heaving into the toilet until Antonio woke up to the gagging sounds. It worried the Spaniard that something else might be wrong, which Lovino brushed off admitting to his tremendous nerves. Antonio believed him, knowing Lovino had too much pride and it really meant something when he admitted to feeling nervous _and_ afraid.

They arrived and got Lovino checked in. After being looked over by a nurse and given a gown to change into he was left alone. Lovino waited in the hospital bed, fingering the bracelet on his wrist, waiting for Antonio to come back.

What was that thing Feliciano did when he was worked up? Count? Lovino was willing to try anything to calm himself down and not look overly pathetic to his lover.

A nurse came in, disappointing Lovino that it wasn't Antonio. She quickly stabbed his arm with an IV that he had no clue what was for. As he leaned back on the pillows, watching the nurse leave, his thoughts bounded around in his head and he just wanted Antonio back.

It was reasonable to be worried since the last time he'd been to a hospital was when Feliciano was admitted over a year ago. He had never been in one before that—not even at birth (he was delivered by a midwife on a subway when his mom went into labor on her way to meet his dad at their then-new home).

What if he didn't wake up? What if he _did_ wake up and felt everything? That happens sometimes! Did they have the right height and weight for him? Doesn't anesthetic need that? What if they overdo it and kill him? What if they find out it's worse than they thought and he dies sooner than he hoped for? What if— _one, two, three_ …

Lovino closed his eyes as he counted and didn't open them again until he heard shoes clapping on the floor. Antonio strolled in the room and sat on the side of the bed, smiling down at Lovino. That's when Lovino felt it—he felt like he was floating and all-around amused.

Oh. So _that's_ what was in the IV.

"Happy drugs."

"What?"

"Did I say that out loud?"

"Yes, you did, Lovi," Antonio snickered. He straightened up a bit and held Lovino's hand. "You have to go into surgery soon, but I'll be waiting here when you get out, okay? Don't be afraid, you'll be fine."

"I'm fine now."

Antonio's heart swelled and he smiled. "That's so sweet, Lovi."

"Huh? Don't be cocky, I mean the happy drugs. We should get some of this."

"That's illegal."

"Pussy."

The next few hours went by in a blur for the angry-yet-happy Italian. He barely remembered being carted off for surgery or being knocked out, but for some reason he did remember the annoying hair net thing they put on his head. Some nurse accidentally brushed a certain curl while putting it on and if it hadn't have been for the happy drugs he would have turned absolutely red and panicked.

When he awoke his hair was free and he was sleepy. There was a small bandage on his stomach and a lot of drugs were being pumped into him. His blinked his heavy eyes open and saw the gentle face of Antonio.

Then he saw the smiling face of his little brother and the Edelsteins.

"Toni…" he slurred, gaining everyone's attention. "You're… _you're a jerk bastard_."

Roderich sighed, off-handedly asking, "What is it this time?'

Antonio rubbed his neck, admitting, "Lovi didn't want me to tell anyone about this. But I had to! You're his family!"

"Pull the family card one more time and I'll never fuck you again," Lovino murmured into his pillow. Lovino seemed to lose the closest thing to a filter he had when drugged. "That includes jerking you off when you get lonely and read Nicholas Sparks books."

Everyone else's faces were bright red. Lovino looked up at the group, not understanding the problem.

"Why are there so many tomatoes in here?"

Antonio petted Lovino's head, trying to shush him. "You should really sleep, Lovi," he tried. "You're tired."

"Fuck you."

After a few quiet minutes he was out again. Antonio quietly told the guests that Lovino was just having a simple biopsy done, having only told them Lovino was in the hospital earlier for "a procedure."

Feliciano seemed nervous, though that was mostly from his dislike of hospitals since the events of the year before. He was, however, happy to be there for his brother even if Antonio had to go behind his back to tell them.

After they left Antonio sat in a chair by the bed, occasionally playing with Lovino's hair or stroking the back of his hand. As he felt himself falling asleep, he gripped the smaller hand and laid his head down on the bed, hoping for the results to come back well. He'd give anything for Lovino to be okay and not suffer.

* * *

Back at home after his stay, Lovino was laid up in bed surrounded by their softest pillows and every doll Antonio had ever given him. Lovino was waiting on Antonio to finish up their lunch, so he sat somewhat reclined with his favorite stuffed red bear from Valentine's Day the year before. Its face was a bit angry, but he liked that about it.

Antonio arrived with the food and they ate quietly. When they were done Lovino grabbed Antonio's wrist as he was leaving.

"Yes, Lovi?"

"I'm getting bored here."

"Sleep."

"I've slept enough, damn it!"

Antonio put a hand on his hip and thought for a moment. "I got it! We're getting married soon, so why don't we work on that? I can bring all the stuff in here."

Lovino frowned and reluctantly agreed, having been putting it off as much as he could since the engagement. Planning weddings was boring!

"We'll work on it and I'll have Elizaveta help finish it up," Antonio offered.

"Fine. But I'm not wearing a dress."

"Good, I wanted to do that anyway!"

"God, I hate you."

Soon there were binders of unfinished plans, such as lists of who to invite and written plans for possible bakeries to get the cake from or where to rent tuxedos (and dresses for bridesmaids) from. They wanted to start easy, so they each worked on their own lists of who they wanted to invite. Unsurprisingly, Antonio had a much longer list (though all were friends, due to his own lack of a biological family). Lovino had little patience for people and his list was only consisting of people he genuinely liked.

It would be a small affair.

It was dark outside when they stopped and Antonio agreed to pick out the invitations if Lovino would agree to send them when the time came. When it came to them planning a wedding, it was less fighting over _which to have_ and more arguing _who would pick what_. Antonio picks cards, Lovino would pick the bridesmaid/groomsmen outfits, they would agree on a cake, and so on.

Lovino cringed and held his stomach after he tried to put his notebook of guest names away. Antonio handed him a few pain relievers and said, as sternly as he could, to sleep.

A few bats of his eyelashes and Lovino had Antonio in bed with him. If he had to go to bed early then so did Antonio!

* * *

Ludwig was only a little embarrassed to have Feliciano spend the night. The high school senior had spent the night before, more frequently after Ludwig had went away to live in a dorm on campus… but now there was a tenseness to it. He didn't know what was expected of him now that they were _kind-of-vaguely-discussed_ together. Feliciano was always so carefree and willing to do anything and so blunt! Were they supposed to do what they normally did during sleepovers? Were they supposed to act like a couple? Would they watch television or did they have to kiss and hug instead? The sleeping arrangement was something he didn't want to think of. The _horror_.

Gilbert certainly didn't help. He was also home and purposely invited a friend over to snicker at Ludwig and say suggestive things to the teens that would turn Ludwig red and go unnoticed by the oblivious Italian.

The four sat together for dinner, the Beilschmidt parents out of town for something business related. Their food was generic frozen oven or microwave dinners; Gilbert was terrible at cooking and Ludwig's mind was too heavy with questions to concentrate.

The table held a person at each side, Ludwig and Feliciano across from one-another. He jumped slightly when he felt the small foot of Feliciano rub against his. Did he do that on purpose?

"So, West," Gilbert began, voice quivering with pent-up laughter. "Aren't you going to introduce your boyfriend to Francis?"

The German glared but didn't know if he should correct his brother or lie. Feliciano's face was cheery and gave no indication of what to do. Ludwig sighed and turned to the other guest, a long-haired French man Gilbert met years before.

"Francis, this is Feliciano."

The blonde man made a throaty sound akin to laughter and swept his hair over his shoulder as he turned his attention to the Italian. "Such a cute boy," he purred.

Ludwig stiffened. "He's not a _boy_."

"No, I'm a boy, Luddy!" Feliciano tried to correct. "Do you need to see my p—"

" _THAT WILL NOT BE NECESSARY_."

"…permit. It… it says 'male' on it…"

Ludwig felt all these unfamiliar emotions of embarrassment and bashfulness flood his brain. "O-oh. T-That's fine, you're a boy."

It had been years since Gilbert laughed so hard he nearly passed out. He wiped the tears from his eyes and tried to catch his breath. Francis smirked and watched the embarrassed German and clueless Italian. Oh, he'd have to mess with them. It was absolutely necessary now.

When everyone was done choking down their dinner they dispersed to their rooms—Gilbert's and Ludwig's, that is. Ludwig was desperately trying to convince Feliciano to play a video game, which allowed no room for romance or Feliciano's innocent acts of perversion. Feliciano, on the other hand, thought watching a movie with the lights off would be fun _because it'd be just like a theatre_! The poor college student swore this boy would be the death of him.

From Gilbert's room were the other men, plotting ways to fuck with Ludwig and, low-key, Feliciano. The albino's eyes sparkled and he smiled darkly. He motioned for Francis to follow him out to the hall and into his parents' bedroom and attached bathroom.

The bathroom was well-kept, much like the rest of the house filled with anal-retentive cleaners. The tiles were shiny and had no sign of dust while the shower curtain was pristine with no signs of ever being used, as if it were new but with now folded lines from the packaging. The soap dispenser was filled neatly and the sink was spotless with no dried soap, hair, or toothpaste to see.

The state of the medicine cabinet was startling with the perfection of the clean mirrors (no spots of water or stains) and the neat shelves behind it with evenly-spaced out medicines, razors, and nail polishes.

Gilbert grabbed an orange bottle without even needing to check the label—they were meticulous in their placement and the level of _Mommie Dearest_ here was beginning to freak Francis out.

"Here," the albino chuckled, holding up the bottle. "I think it's time West _shows_ little Italy how much he liked him."

"Ita— _is that_?!"

" _Oh ja_."

* * *

The constant buzzing of Lovino's phone woke him and Antonio up and elicited grunts and groans. The Italian reached out blindly for the device before finally answering it.

"Someone better be dead."

" _Fratello_!"

"The fuck could you possibly need at this hour?" He groaned, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

" _It's only eight_."

"You're only eight!"

The younger brother whimpered. " _Something's wrong with Luddy_!"

"Good."

" _I think he has a fever because he turned red all of a sudden! Then he got up and ran to the bathroom and won't tell me what's wrong! Do you think he's bulimic_?"

"Does he fucking look bulimic to you?"

" _It's always the ones you don't suspect, fratello_!"

Lovino groaned again. "I just had surgery. Tell your boyfriend to go fuck himself. NOW LEAVE ME ALONE." He slammed his thumb repeatedly over the red end-call button and sat the slick smartphone down again.

Then they were further disturbed by ringing. Lovino tilted his head toward Antonio. "Don't you dare answer that."

"Hola! Antonio's phone speaking!" He whispered, " _It's Gilbert_."

"The fucking wonder twins are here to fuck up my night! Great!"

Antonio smiled and kissed Lovino on the cheek, taking the younger man down a notch on the rage meter. "Si, Gil? Oh, Francis is there? Tell him I say hi! Si, si? You _what_? What? Oh, Gil! Well, yes, that is hilarious, but _Gil_!"

"Hang the fuck up."

"Sorry, Gil, we need to finish up. Lovi's cranky."

"I am not!"

"He's… horny?"

"JESUS CHRIST, TONI."

"He's just angry. Si, classic Lovi. Gil, you can't do that to your own brother! That's mean! Funny but mean! Okay, I'll call you tomorrow. Bye bye!"

He sat his own phone down and returned to Lovino for some cuddling. Lovino reluctantly gave into the warm embrace and kisses. He finally caved and asked, "What did that jerk bastard do to the other jerk bastard?"

Antonio giggled. "Oh, he made some popcorn and brought drinks to Ludwig and your brother for the movie they were watching. Except he… laced Ludwig's drink with some of his dad's Viagra."

"Holy shit."

"They were watching _Jurassic Park_."

" _Holy shit_."

"So when your brother figures it out…"

" _He's going to think the bastard is a dinosaur fucker_."

* * *

 **A/N: Again, not mocking bulimia. It's a serious eating disorder.**

 **I wrote the hospital scene months ago. Fun fact, I wrote this story immediately after I wrote _Silence Louder Than Thunder_. Then I abandoned it. Then I posted SLLT. I started posting this story when there were only about two and a half chapters done, so everything from The Beilschmidt house was written _this year,_ unlike everything else.**

 **" _Mommie Dearest_ " was a book turned movie about a beloved actress who was abusive to her adopted daughter. She was also a clean freak and I had those scenes from the movie of her fervently cleaning her house (and the bathrooms) in mind when writing about Gilbert's house.**

* * *

 **" Compass" by Jamie Lidell**

* * *

 _Now I know the only compass that I need_

 _Is the one that leads back to you_


End file.
